


Amaurotic

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Series: Misfire/Fulcrum ficlets [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fulcrum descends into a panic attack when an injury leaves him temporarily blind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amaurotic

The pain had offlined his optics when the blast first hit his chassis. That had been a full cycle ago; Fulcrum would recover, but slowly. There was only so much Spinister could do. Being blind wasn't a new experience for Fulcrum. 

Unfortunately.

Fulcrum spent the first few hours of recovery floating in a panic, terrifying memories running themselves through his processor. Taunting images danced through ghostly pseudo-vision, promising torture and chains and hopelessness. The pain flared along every sensor, setting his frame alight in agony.

Misfire found him curled on the med berth, clutching his wound and screaming soundlessly. Fulcrum shrieked and fought off his worried touches, deaf to Misfire's urgent reassurances as the jet was forced to hold him still. The patch over the wound was still fresh and pliable; Misfire briefly considered comming for Spinister when he hit upon an idea. He crawled up on the side of the berth, mumbling a string of sweet nonsense as he leaned in, warding off Fulcrum's punches with one arm. Fulcrum's thrashing made aiming for his mouth extremely difficult, but on the third try he managed to find Fulcrum's lips with his own.

They both stilled immediately.

It wasn't a proper kiss- more like rubbing and nuzzling- but it was more than good enough in Misfire's opinion. Fulcrum didn't respond, but neither did he push him away, frozen by a mix of conflicted emotions.

"Shhh," Misfire whispered, bringing his hands up to pet and soothe Fulcrum's helm. "You're not _there_ anymore. You're here with me, on the W.A.P., remember? You're okay. You're safe."

For a moment, Misfire wasn't sure Fulcrum heard; the tech laid motionless, staring sightlessly up at him. Then a flurry of movement, and Misfire yelped as thin arms wrapped around his neck and trapped him there.

Fulcrum spoke with a dry sob. "Don't- Don't-,"

Misfire nuzzled his chin affectionately. "I'm not going anywhere."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
